


His Stray Boys

by Corvus_Aconitum



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: ...and thoughtful, ...for once, ...in his own way, Fluff, M/M, Nick being adorable, Nick/ Sean established relationship, Sean is not the one to make decisions, friends finding out, little furry tyke, more fluffy fluff - Freeform, schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvus_Aconitum/pseuds/Corvus_Aconitum
Summary: In which Hank wonders what kind of weird job interview Nick is conducting, Nick gets to have his way and Sean isn't the one to make decisions for once.Or in other words: Nick has a plan so that Sean isn't alone when he's not around.Hank finds out that Nick and Sean are an item.And our royal zauberbiest is happier with the outcome than he's ever likely to admit.





	His Stray Boys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zwärg (Eremon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eremon/gifts).



> Zwärg, you know why this is for you. All the hugs and hopefully a little joy from this.  
> To cats and how they bring us joy and push us to the brink of insanity only to look at us with big eyes and make us forget why we were mad at them in the first place.

 

His Stray Boys

 

Hank looks up to see Nick rising from his seat with a stack of files in hand, to which he has apparently just put the last finishing touches.

“Heeding to the Captain?“

Nick throws him a short, kind of distracted glance before replying:

“Oh, yeah. Nothing big. Just checking something with him.“

“Want me to accompany you?“

“Why, intent of getting out of the report you promised to finish alone after I helped you out when you needed time off to meet that nice blonde?“

Hank glares at his friend’s crooked smirk.

“Haha, no I’m not trying to get out of that.“

“Okay, well, then I’ll be off to the Captain.“

 

>>>

 

For a few moments Detective Griffin manages to concentrate on writing that report from hell but all too soon his attention wanders.

_Who can fault me? Reports really are mind numbing!_

 

Nick is just opening those file folders and spreading them out for Renard to see. While their boss lounges in his chair, managing to look regal and at ease without slouching. At all. Enviable ability.

 

As his partner has left the door ajar, snippets of conversation filter through to where he is sitting. What he hears, though, makes him frown in incomprehension:

“He’s good with others….“

The Captain nods, tip of his index finger lightly touching his lips in a thoughtful gesture as he peruses whatever Nick is showing him.

“He’s black… but that’s not a problem, right?“

 

 _What the hell?_ Hank thinks.

_Is this some kind of warped interview for filling some vacant post in precinct? But why would Nick mention the applicant’s skin color? This isn’t something both his friend or their boss give anything about._

 

Said friend now points to the next folder, Renard following his indication with that intense gaze typical for him. It seems to take in everything and not miss a single detail.

“This is Carl. He’s got gray hair, short, stumpy legs and is a bit round along the middle but I’m confident that he’ll still manage the stairs just fine.“

 

While Hank is stuck somewhere between great amusement at the funny description and confusion because - what the hell, what kind of job interview is that - their princely superior frowns down on the paper and then makes some comment that’s too low for him to understand.

Nick shrugs in response and Hank just about catches something like: “What can I say, Captain, it’s kind of adorable.“

 

The Afro-American snickers, thinking of their colleague Frank, who would match that description quite well, and what he would have to say about being thusly described. And called adorable. Most likely Nick wouldn’t like the outcome.

 

He stops chortling in time to catch description of the last ’candidate‘:

“This lady here seems quite the regal and snobbish one and I’m honestly not sure, if that would mix so well…. Considering that you’re more the ’give orders‘ than ’take orders‘ kind of guy, Sir.“

 

He sees Nick ducking slightly under that truly fearsome glare he’s subjected to but for all seeking distance there’s still a teasing half-smile playing around his lips. It’s typical, really. His partner has never been one to grovel in face of authority and while showing their superior all due respect, he’s never shied away from a bit of light teasing. He’s a bit like Wu in that regard. Only with an ounce more self-preservation and loads less of bad puns.

 

Shaking his head he decides to get back to his report. Nick might be a good natured guy but he’s also a damn perceptive one and he would most likely notice, if Hank hadn’t written any more than the three paragraphs that he’s started with.

 

No matter how weird a conversation he has overheard, the weirdest part of it - Hank thinks in retrospect - is what he’s seen upon Nick’s return to their work space:

_Because honestly, why in God’s name would there be the photograph of a cat peaking out of one of those mysterious folders?!_

 

The Senior Detective decides to file that question away for later and ask it while they’re sitting in some out of the way diner for lunch break.

 

>>>

 

Nick cannot help noticing his partner throwing him curious glances while they eat…. And, frankly, he’s been doing it ever since he’s left Renard’s office. This is curious. It’s not as if he’s done anything unusual. He’s just needed the Captain to make a choice. 

 

Halfway through the meal he’s fed up with those looks and decides to address the matter: “Hank, is there any reason why you are eying me like I am something to examine after dissection?“

His friend frowns, obviously having a silent battle about if to say anything or not. Finally he seems to have made up his mind. Leveling him a piercing, inquisitive stare that shows all of a Detective’s thirst for solving cases he asks:

“Okay, why cats? Or one cat as I’ve never seen if it’s more than one?“

“Pardon me?“ Nick sways somewhere between true puzzlement and trying to deflect Hank’s attention. Of course, the latter is a fruitless endeavor.

“Cat. Why did you carry at least one folder with the picture of a cat into the Captain’s office and showed it to him?“

“Oh, that! Easy, I needed him to make a choice.“

Nick shrugs unconcernedly, knowing his expression is clouded by slight dismay when Hank still doesn’t seem to get it and looks at him as if he were crazy. The broad shouldered Detective leans back into his seat as if that will present him with a new angle to the problem and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“No offense, buddie, but same question: Why cats?“

Now Nick really cannot keep a mix of pity and mischievousness from sneaking onto his features.

“Uhm, I thought that would be obvious, Hank. I thought that Sean needed a cat, of course.“

Hank narrows his eyes at him - most likely because his tone has been slightly pitying, too, and his partner (as well as Monroe) doesn’t like it when he gets that way.

“Ah, of course. That’s explains it!“ Sarcasm thick and cloying: “And now you only need to tell me why you thought that _Sean_ , who is also our tough as nails ever distanced _Captain_ , needs a cat?“

Nick is fidgeting a tiny bit now and he’s well aware of it.

“Well, you see, Sean is always all alone in his fancy house when I’m not there and I thought he’s definitely a cat person…. Certainly has the same unnerving, unwavering stare…. And the regal bearing… except for when he’s managed to fall asleep on the couch. Then he’s more the giant sprawled cat without bone structure to speak of…. Well, anyway. I think a cat and Sean fit well together and that’s why I presented him with choices to pick from.“

 

Nick shrugs again as if that ought to explain everything. And really, understanding dawns on his partner’s face as he continues to stare at him.

 

At last Hank heaves an exaggerated sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and pinning him with a stare that’s only slightly less unnerving than Sean’s or the cat’s.

“And may it be - in all your contemplations and wisdom - that you’ve forgotten to tell me that him being alone when you aren’t there to keep him company might mean that you are dating the guy?!?“

 

It takes the Grimm a moment.

 

_Do I have…? I must have told…._

“Oops!“

Heat rises in to his face and neck as he looks out meekly.

“Uuh, maybe… I kind of forgot with all that’s been happening?“

He knows he’s sounding as timid as a maushertz now but he cannot do a single thing about it.

“Hmhmm.“ Now Hank’s stare is slightly _more_ unnerving than Sean’s… or the cat’s…. Just not the gray one’s because that one just looked kind of sleepy and slow….

“Uuuh…. I could show you the cats, you know? Especially the fourth one that I didn’t show Sean… because I was sneaky.“

Hank glares and glares and then he cracks up, shaking with laughter and totally losing it. Between huffs he says:

“For God’s sake, show me those cats. And then you’re going to tell me in detail what’s that with you and _Sean_.“

>>>

 

Sean Renard is sitting on the couch with his Grimm sprawled over his lap as if he owned the place… and him, fingertips rubbing over the soft skin of Nick’s neck and eliciting decidedly cat like purring noises. He heaves a sigh of royal exasperation.

_Really, the nerve of him! I should have known!_

 

Over Nick’s back and right onto Sean’s sweater clad shoulder clambers an impossibly small, fluffy creature. Funny thing is, it’s neither black nor gray nor a proud female feline. It is a little, playful tyke whose fur looks like someone has dunked him in a big cup of latte macchiato, all cream colored with white patches, dark grayish ears and dark little paws.

Sean holds up a hand to intercept one of those little paws as it makes to poke his cheek, his own hand huge in comparison to this tiny little thing.

Coming to think of it, his hand is large compared not only to a paw of it but to the fur ball in its entirely… which isn’t all that much. And, of course, it isn’t adorable at all.

Nick lies still while the zauberbiest wards off another barely there paw poke attack and remains without a concern in the world even when the little tomboy tumbles off Sean’s shoulder and right onto his back where he patters about a little disorientated before settling in for the long haul. One last glance from gray blue eyes that look suspiciously like those of his lovely brat, than it buries its head into the wool of Nick’s sweater and falls asleep right away.

 

Sean’s hands continue their caress almost on their own accord - one scratching the cat behind its tiny, fuzzy ears, one stroking the back of his Grimm’s neck. The powerful zauberbiest sighs again.

“Nick, tell me, why is it that I now have _two_ strays in my home?“

His mate makes an indignant huffing noise against his tights but otherwise doesn’t move… and in the end doesn’t object to his way of addressing him and their new acquisition. In way of an explanation he only says:

“Well, I always knew that in truth you would like this little tyke the most but Ialso know you to be a mite bit sensitive when it’s about relinquishing control so I gave you a choice.“

“First of all, that’s only part of an answer to my question. And secondly, have you thought about the fact that giving me a choice and then ignoring my decision is not really better than giving me no choice at all?“

“Don’t worry. I knew what I was doing because, you see, from time to time even my powerful, always in control and meanwhile dead sexy looking Prince must face a decision made for him, so that’s okay.“

 

Sean doesn’t know if he should glare, laugh or steam with anger at this latest act of insolence.

“Hm. So that’s what my little Grimm thought. Most enlightening.“

He keeps his tone deliberately icy… only to learn that it has no effect whatsoever on his brave (freely insert foolish) Detective. For some time he just looks down on his two boys, both sprawled there with all the trust in the world that he will keep them safe and protected.

Oh well. With a small huff he continues petting them and is very secretly delighted when both emit small sounds of pleasure.

And at the barely audible: “You like your strays, admit it“, a small smile wills out at last.

At the end of the day maybe it isn’t so bad that he has two stray cats now. The little latte macchiato colored one and the big one whose eyes are of exactly the same color as the little one’s. It’s safe to say that Nick has picked a cat for him that will well and truly remind him of his brat when said brat Detective isn’t home to warm him.

 


End file.
